


The Ruin of Soul

by nrem (night_reveals)



Series: All Hope Excluded [2]
Category: Paradise Lost - John Milton, The Bible
Genre: Angels, Biblical References, M/M, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-12
Updated: 2012-05-12
Packaged: 2017-11-05 05:53:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/403135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/night_reveals/pseuds/nrem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After his encounter with Lucifer, Gabriel is visited by Michael, and receives his orders from God.</p><p>A continuation of <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/349735">O, Warning Voice</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Ruin of Soul

**Author's Note:**

> [In Hebrew, Michael means "who is like God" (mi-who, ke-as or like, El-deity), which is traditionally interpreted as a rhetorical question: "Who is like God?" (which expects an answer in the negative) to imply that no one is like God. In this way, Michael is reinterpreted as a symbol of humility before God. - [wikipedia](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Archangel_Michael)]
> 
> If you haven't read [O, Warning Voice](https://archiveofourown.org/works/349735), this may not make sense.

"Gabriel!" The voice that wakes him to his surroundings is deep and thrumming with anxiety. The Archangel Michael appears on the horizon, his solid form and strong shoulders seeming to muscle the sky apart for his passage, his brown-tinged wings dependable. When he comes to rest in front of Gabriel, Gabriel sees that the wind has whisked Michael's hair back from his forehead and curled it into small halos, a cruel reminder of Gabriel's failings.

Dropping his head, Gabriel does not return the greeting, only watching the drip of water from his own slowly beating wings.

"Brother," tries Michael, reaching out for Gabriel's shoulders. After a moment, Gabriel ignoring the grip and keeping his face askance, Michael quietly notes, "You are crying."

"It is only rain."

Doubtful, Michael tugs at Gabriel's now dry, sun-warmed tunic, then raises a hand as if to brush at Gabriel’s face. He drops it back to Gabriel’s shoulder. "As you say."

Gabriel stills, save for the beat of his wings. "Why did you have me come here this morning?"

"To sing the praises of God," says Michael, voice troubled.

"And what good did you think would come from keeping me in ignorance of Lucifer's presence?" Gabriel shrugs his shoulders viciously, removing Michael's hands. "What possible good?" 

As if aware he is flying in treacherous skies, Michael picks his words slowly. 

"I know that our Father made us to be complementary, one’s weakness buttressed by another’s strength and able to do all things when united as a host. But to see you and Lucifer together – as a pair in the sky you outshone any of us, brilliant and unstoppable. I merely thought that if any were to reach him, it would be you, his brother in all things." 

Michael cannot know that he twists the sword lodged in Gabriel's breast with every word, driving guilt and pain deeper into Gabriel's wound, but the professed trust in Gabriel’s abilities and pureness batter his conscience. 

"Yet I have failed." Gabriel breathes deep. All angels exert perfect control over their bodies, their sinew and muscle bending to their inexorable wills; Gabriel does not know why he cannot seem to stop his tears. "And in failing have perhaps driven him even farther from us."

"That cannot be true," says Michael, sure and bold as always. "You have both been drawn to the other since our Father set Creation into motion."

For the second time in but a day, cruelty rears its ugly head inside Gabriel. 

"Hubris has always coloured your actions and thoughts, Michael. Perhaps you forget that your name is a question, and not a statement?"

"Gabriel!" Michael flaps his wings in consternation, carrying him a few feet up and away, until he looks down at Gabriel, stricken. "You would accuse me of idolatry?"

For a moment Gabriel wishes to push, to see Michael's face break under his words as Lucifer's did only hours ago, but then the pain in Michael's eyes snaps against Gabriel’s conscience like a whip, calling him back to himself. His brother hurts at Lucifer's betrayal, too.

"No,” says Gabriel, hand rising to brush hair from his brow. “No, I did not mean that. I am sorry. It seems selfishness has taken root in me.”

A flutter of wings is the only warning Gabriel has before strong arms are surrounding him, holding him fast before Michael, warm and inviting. The memory of Michael’s manipulation gives Gabriel only a moment’s hesitation. Forgiveness soon wells in him like a spring denied rushing to the surface, bursting from his center to envelop his brother, who is here to care for him in his need.

“Your soul,” says Michael quietly, one hand on the back of Gabriel’s head. “You are in such pain. Why have you hidden this from me?” 

There is only silence when Gabriel refuses to answer. 

“How can I help?” tries Michael. “The Mount is close. Your feet must be dirty, and your wings weary. We can rest, wash, and pray.”

“No. I will pray here.” Gabriel pulls back, one hand splayed on Michael’s chest to push him gently away. He has forgiven Michael, who muscles the sky from his path because he never learned to fly through it, but Gabriel cannot so easily forget manipulation. “Alone.” 

“As you wish.” Michael clears his throat and gathers himself. “This time with Lucifer was not only for his sake, but for yours.”

With a look Gabriel questions Michael’s words, and a strong wind left over from the storm spikes down their two sets of wings, buffeting them. 

“God has chosen you for a task, one that will henceforth take all your capabilities.”

Gabriel’s face jerks up, the tiny wings on his ankles fluttering more quickly. “What task?”

“Eden.” Michael watches Gabriel carefully, eyes tracking Gabriel’s expressions. “The Garden wants for a keeper.” 

Lying at the root of their Father’s world, Eden is far-flung from all else, nestled in time and space such that even an archangel as powerful as Gabriel must strain to sense it. It is much unlike the Mount, which bursts from the clouds and calls all of Father’s children to it with its easy acceptance and joyfulness of spirit. Compared to it, Eden is but a blip in the fabric of God’s world, shrouded in fog and the unknown, watched over by God alone.

Gabriel at once closes himself off from Michael, shielding his soul as best he can so that the hurt at this sudden relegation does not infect Michael. 

“Our Father requested you,” says Michael, unbidden. “He trusts you like no other.” 

Gabriel turns from Michael and follows the line of disappearing storm over the horizon with his eyes, remembering the bite of hail and the lash of rain. “And I will take to the task gladly.” 

Then, he prays.


End file.
